What a Pro
by SuicidalToeSocks
Summary: Lucian liked making lists. They kept life organized. Whenever he was too confused about something, it always helped to make a list. Right now he was confused, and his Pro and Con list about Aaron was not helping. In fact, it was doing just the opposite.


_Pros_

_1. Completely innocent._

_2. Willing to try anything._

_3. Still eats sugary little kid cereal with marshmallows._

_4. Childish for his age._

_5. Doesn't try to hide his crying when something is sad._

_6. Never gives up._

_7. Hugs really tight._

_8. Pays in exact change._

_9. Can wiggle ears._

_10. Will one day rival Bertha in cooking skill._

_11. Still gets excited over Halloween and Christmas._

_12. Insufferably upbeat._

_13. Inquisitive of everything._

_14. Quirky...?_

_Cons_

_1._

Lucian bit his lip and knit his eyebrows together, completely oblivious to the noises of the castle just outside his bedroom door when, usually, he had problems blocking them out. He began to wonder when he simply just _became_ one big pro, when his cons all turns inconspicuously into some sort of trait to only make him more endearing.

_15. Has endearing flaws_

A multitude of swearwords filled his mind when he realized he was adding to the wrong list. He checked the clock sitting on his desk; 4:38. Damn! Lucian had been sitting in the confines of his room, trying to think of one con for nearly an hour and a half. And while that in itself gave cause to worry, the even more worrying part was that it had taken him little under five minutes to construct the first list.

Lucian liked making lists. Lists for groceries, lists for birthday and Christmas presents, lists of what he had to do, or lists of who he had to call. Lists made life so much more organized. Whenever Lucian was too confused about something, it always helped him to sit down and make a list about it. And right now, he was certainly confused about something, alright.

_16. Aloof._

Lucian put those lists aside and began making another one, this one describing his perfect person, thinking that it would provide a sufficient amount of facts to counteract the Pro/Con list and relive him, thus making him be able to go on with daily life unchanged. Only, he got super pissed when he realized that the Perfect Person list was nearly identical to his Pro/Con one, thus resulting in a crumpled piece of paper in the trash can and Lucian back where he started, trying to think of a single Con. Just one Con, and he would be happy.

_17. Doesn't overreact; Level-headed._

Lucian put down the perfectly-balanced fountain pen and pushed himself away from his desk. He decided that, after a short hiatus in which a cup of relaxing tea was involved, he would then be relaxed enough to be able to return, sit down, and come up with a sufficient con.

When, exactly, had he changed from just another Elite to a teenager with flaws that only enhanced his personality? There was something about him that drove him wild, something Lucian had never seen before upon his first year with them. Maybe it was hidden under his big personality. Regardless, it seemed to worm its way out through his natural curiosity, shine through his big, green eyes, and become so painfully apparent with every word the boy spoke. It had settled so lightly at first that it was no wonder Lucian didn't notice it in the beginning. But now, he seemed to find himself lost in distant daydreams, placing himself and the boy in situations in his books, and smiling whenever he flashed a grin in Lucian's direction. Or when he flashed a grin at all, in fact.

_18. Has a startlingly infectious smile._

Lucian began going down the stairs, one hand on the rail, one hand in his jacket pocket, and it recalled something in his memory that made him able to remember the exact moment, during a bout of insomnia at 3:14 in the morning, when he came upon the startling realization of his affections. Or, lack thereof, as he was trying to prove with his lists.

After a horribly bad dream Lucian experienced a week and a half ago, he had gotten up in the middle of the night and went downstairs at 3: 12 in the morning to make himself a cup of tea. Tea always had that sort of calming effect on him. He had trooped down the stairs to the kitchen, only to find it already alight, with someone busying himself at the counter near the sink.

_19. Works in the kitchen at obscene hours of the morning. With no shirt._

That, Lucian decided, was the exact moment he had begun to realize just how cute this boy was. His hair had been sticking up at odd angles, the sink had been running with steaming water pouring out the tap, and he had been talking absently to a stuffed Heracross doll on the counter next to him. His Caterpie-patterned pajama pants had been falling down his waist, so Lucian noticed the drawstring tied extra-tight when he had turned around to greet whoever had been coming into the kitchen at 3:14.

_20. Still sleeps with stuffed dolls._

Lucian had stood still in the doorway for a moment, a little surprised that anyone besides himself would be up, but he quickly regained himself when Aaron motioned for him to sit down, and would he like some? Lucian had nodded, assuming the head-bob gesture toward the counter was whatever Aaron was making, which also looked like tea.

_21. Is a natural gentleman._

It was hot chocolate.

_22. Still drinks hot chocolate, even in the summer._

When he had walked over to the table, Lucian had felt his face contort into some sort of goofy grin. Lucian had always been a sucker for cute things. Always. Not once had he ever been able to resist them. And Aaron, walking to the table with two mugs of steaming hot chocolate, a stuffed doll tucked under one shirtless arm, with his hair skewed every which way, was cuter than anything Lucian had ever seen, bar none.

Aaron had smiled a toothy smile. The jerk totally knew it, too.

_23. Knows exactly how cute he is. And probably knows how to exploit it, too.  
_

It was all rather annoying, really, Lucian thought as he descended the stairs to the kitchen, which was alive with activity. Lucian was pouring much more thought into this than it was worth. He sat down at a seat next to Flint, who was busy doing the crossword in the Funnies section of the paper, and waited until Bertha could spare a moment to look up from cooking dinner. Aaron was on the other side of the kitchen, helping her prepare something else.

"Whatcha need, hon?" she asked, wiping a bit of sweat from her forehead when she turned around. Lucian gave her the most relaxed smile he could – though he knew it was in vain, Bertha always knew when something was troubling anyone. That aside, Lucian was out in public without his suit's jacket, with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. It meant he was working on something, and working hard. Flint could see exactly what Bertha saw, and gave him a curious look

"Just a cup of tea would be fine, thank you," he said. Her gaze lingered for a moment, but she did turn back to the counter and put the kettle on the one back burner that wasn't covered by a pot or skillet. A moment later, Lucian's favorite mug – a purple one with an intricate, thready design along the top, bottom, and inner lip of the cup and a Shakespeare quote in fancy writing snaking around the body – landed in front of him from just over his shoulder. Aaron glanced back at him and gave him a cute little wink, then turned back to his chopping up vegetables at the counter.

_24. Knows my favorite mug for tea._

_25. Looks even cuter than usual in a mildly frilly apron._

Suddenly, Lucian was struck with a thought. He told them all to stay right there and he would be right back, then went back to his room, grabbed his notepad of lists and favorite fountain pen, then went back down at sat at the table and faces Aaron, the pen and pad poised and ready for action.

"Whatcha got there, Lucian?" Flint asked. He leaned over to look and the Psychic Master let him – he wouldn't have a clue who the list was about, anyway.

"Aaron, I need you to list off every undesirable quality you possess," he said. The kettle whistled and Bertha poured some hot water into Lucian's mug, then topped it off with a tea bag. Flint raised an eyebrow but, miraculously, didn't say a word. Lucian flushed now, knowing that Flint knew what the list was about, but moreso because some of the pros he had written down were a little questionable...

"Well," Aaron thought for a moment, tapping the salad tongs against his chin. "For starters, I hug way too hard."

Lucian was about to write it down when he glanced over at the other side of the paper. Number seven, damn. He gave a small, nervous chuckle.

"He already has that," Flint said for him. "What else?"

"Well, I also still eat that marshmallow-y cereal. And watch cartoons. I'm pretty childish for my age, I guess." He shrugged his shoulders and laughed, then turned back to the counter to finish his salad. Lucian gulped. Numbers three and four. But, what was he worrying about? Aaron knew himself better than anybody, so of course, he would be more attuned to his flaws than anybody else, right?

"I'm happy almost all the time," Aaron mused. "I can assume that would get pretty annoying. Like, do I even _have_ another emotion?"

Number twelve. Lucian felt himself pale. Did the room suddenly get hotter than usual?

"Oh, and I also can't sing to save my life. Like, 'Happy Birthday' is a big deal for me."

_26. Adorably Inept._

Lucian excused himself from the table and told them all he wasn't feeling well, then walked as calmly as he could back up to his room. Once the door was shut securely, he threw his notebook and pen down on his desk unceremoniously and threw himself down onto his bed, face-first, and shouted for as long and loud as he could into his pillow. Then he lay there quietly for a few minutes, took a few deep breaths, and picked up his notebook, tore out his list, and stuck it in his back pocket.

For the rest of the night, Lucian took great care in sitting down as much as possible, taking some sort of twisted pleasure in knowing he was squashing all of his unwanted thoughts into oblivion.

Xxxx

It was 4:111 when Lucian rolled over and stared at the clock for what seemed like the umpteenth time. It was at that point that he decided to forgo sleep and go down to the kitchen to make himself a calming cup of hot tea. Pajama pants falling down to where Flint's usually sat on his hips, pajama shirt halfway unbuttoned with one shoulder precariously close to falling out of the neck hole and one sleeve much longer than the other, he stood up out of bed, popped his stiffened spine, and used one hand to sleepily guide himself down the stairs on the railing at 4:12 in the morning to go prepare a cup of hot tea.

At 4:13 he stopped in the doorway to the kitchen, noticing a skinny boy with Caterpie-patterned pajama pants sitting on the counter next to the sink, a spiral notebook clenched in one hand with white knuckles, chewing on the end of a pencil in thought, with a Heracross stuffed toy in his lap.

"Goddamnit, this is harder than I thought," Aaron was mumbling. When he glanced up and saw the sleep-deprived Lucian standing there, pajamas akimbo, he hastily threw his notebook and pencil in the drawer beside him where Lucian kept his tea stash and, upon looking at his lap and seeming to notice his doll for the first time, threw it behind him for good measure. "Lucian! I thought you would be asleep!"

The man plodded across the room and slumped down at the table. "Couldn't sleep," he said at last. "I have too much on my mind."

"Yeah, me too." Aaron hopped down and crossed the kitchen to sit across from Lucian. He noticed Aaron's drawstring was still pulled as taught as it would go, yet the pants continued to slip farther down his slip hips. Lucian _did_ look away, but not before his own face tinged a little. He'd seen Aaron in his pajamas before, sitting at the breakfast table and on the couch, watching late-night shows with Flint, but maybe it was the overwhelming knowledge that they were _alone_ and he was dressed like that that simply sent Lucian's thoughts overboard. But then he was seated and, with hips no longer visible, Lucian could settle back into a more suitable frame of mind.

"Why couldn't you sleep?" Lucian asked. He was a little more awake now, and shrugged his shirt back to where it was supposed to be. He realized, looking down at himself, he only had two buttons buttoned on it, and they were the ones at the very bottom. He had been sure there were more when he had walked downstairs, hadn't there been? But then, he had also been drowsy, so who knew? He looked up in time to see Aaron glancing at the drawer in which he had shoved the notebook into with his own pink tinge.

_27. Becomes flustered when embarrassed._

"No reason, I usually wake up at this time and come down here, anyway. Usually, I make myself some hot chocolate and it makes me drowsy so I can sleep again, but I really don't feel like hot chocolate right now." He rested his chin on his arms on the table. "I'm just not feeling it tonight, ya know?"

Lucian felt his features soften instantly when he looked at the boy, then stood up and walked around the table. "How about some tea, then? That always calms _me_ down–"

"NO!" Aaron shouted. In a moment, he had jumped up out of his seat and was rushing towards Lucian. "NO NO NO NO NO!"

"Why?" Lucian asked with a laugh. "It's warm, and it has less caffeine than hot chocolate does!" He opened up the drawer and sifted past the notebook, not wanting to intrude on Aaron's privacy, when the words on the paper caught his eye momentarily.

_Pros_

_1. Is almost never seen without a book._

_2. Can quote Shakespeare by heart._

Lucian only just managed to keep his fingers from being squashed by the drawer slamming shut when Aaron ran into hi, full force, and shoved him into the corner of the counter and away from the drawer. Aaron pressed up against him and jumped, his arms stretched over his head as high as they would go, making grabby hands for the notebook Lucian now held high over both of their heads with one outstretched arm. Lucian turned his prize so he could still read it, despite the boy's protests, and felt his heart stop in his throat. Aaron, upon realizing he had lost, let out a moan of despair and buried his face into Lucian's chest, his arms pulled tight to his torso. He kept shaking his head and muttering "No no no no!" over and over again.

_3. Can't cook a damn thing._

_4. Has a secret fetish for cute things._

_5. Insists on drinking tea when everyone else switched to coffee._

_6. Has to make a list for everything._

Lucian read more and more, realizing that both the front and back of the paper was filled with these things. The con side, however, was just as blank as his own was. He wanted desperately to believe this list was about someone else, a girlfriend or an ex girlfriend or Flint or Bugsy or someone, but when his eyes fell on the last one, his face involuntarily broke into a smile.

_26. Can't think of a single Con for me, and has all the ones I listed for him on the "Pro" side._

"Shit," Aaron moaned, now opting for a different word, still muffling his voice against Lucian's chest, still sufficiently pinning him down at the corner where the countertops met. "Shit shit shit..."

"Aaron–"

"It was all Flint's fault!" Aaron blurted. "He told me what you had been writing when you were down here before dinner and how you didn't have any of your stuff on the 'Con' side and then I was like 'Well it can't be _that_ hard to come up with a Con!' So I sat down to think of one only it's a lot harder than it sounded and all of my Cons were Pros and then I got confused and things didn't make sense so I came downstairs and–"

Lucian put a finger over Aaron's mouth and shut him up. The boy, finger still over his mouth, looked up at Lucian with his big green eyes that looked even more innocent than usual, now that they were layered with embarrassment, and gave the tiniest of whimpers.

Lucian smiled a real, genuine smile at the boy. Was it really possible that a thought that had been thought and tossed around and muddled for only about a week and a half to be true? Didn't he need more time to process this so he could file it away under the "I did think rationally about this" category?

Aaron's face was questioning when Lucian removed his finger and tucked a messy piece of green bangs behind Aaron's ear. But as Aaron slowly began to smile back, Lucian decided to forget that and, for once, forget to think too much. He placed his hand firmly at the back of Aaron's neck, the boy tilted his head up, and they kissed.

Up to that point, Lucian would have told someone, had they asked, that he liked kissing well enough, having done it a few times before. But a kiss was a kiss. It was two parts of a human body in contact, and for him, no different than hand-holding or linked arms or being tied to someone in a three-legged race.

_Liking_ did not even begin to describe his feelings about this. There was no way he could sum up in one word the thunder that shook through his body and heart, or the gentle tingle of mingling lips, or how his legs now felt inexplicably like water. He was all-too aware of every place their body touched, every place where Aaron's hands desperately grabbed at his pajama shirt, and it could not even be considered remotely in the same ballpark to hand-holding or a three-legged-race.

_Cons_

_1. Not letting me realize all of his Pros sooner._

**A/N: I wanted to do this with a not-slashed couple. I really did. And this worked wonderfully with Brawly and Roxanne, but I already have a fic in the works for them, so I didn't want to use them again. And since I wanted to do some fresh EliteUndershipping... This was the result. **

**I'd love some reviews, if you'd care to tell me what you thought. **


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